Danny discovered the best way to prevent a tantrum in Bun brought on by the prospect of having his diaper changed is to make faces and say things like, “Oh! Sickening. Eew! Nasty!” Now Bun looks at my face in anticipation when I peer in his diaper and cracks up into belly-laughs when I turn up my nose and say, “Eew!” And then he replies, “Yuckening,” followed by many more giggles. And a wiggly-giggly Bun can be just as difficult to change without incident when it’s a smeary variety BM. I know, TMI.
I’ve been blaming it on the pregnancy blahs, but really, I do suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s not severe enough to warrant medication. It’s obvious to me when the sun comes out bright and beautiful and awards us with a lovely blue sky and puffy white snow clouds that I notice how gloomy I had been in days and weeks past. This morning when I opened the family room/dining room curtains and the sunlight poured into my eyes and I released a sigh of relief and smiled, Pookie said, “I still love you Mommy,” followed by a, “It’s snowing! Can we go play in the snow today?” I thought, “Why not? If the windchill and frostbite chart doesn’t say we’ll freeze to death in less than thirty minutes, I think I could pull it together enough to play in the snow with my children.” Alas, no such luck today. “We’ll just look at how beautiful the snow and the blue sky are through the window. Want to help Mommy do chores?” Chores always make me Mommy of the Year in their eyes.
So, we finally pulled down the strand of (long ago not-working) Christmas lights from our living room/dining room windows today.
And then the chore tantrums began. These aren’t your average everyday chore tantrums. These tantrums sound like this,
G: I wanted to help with the windows too! Where’s my chore?
Pookie: I’m big. I get to do the windows. You are littler than me G.
G: What chore can I do Momma? Can I clean the windows?
Pookie: I’m already doing it. You go clean something else. This is my chore today.
Bun: Meee help . . . peeease.
Me: It’s okay G. You can disinfect doorknobs and the front door with these wipes.
G: Yippee! I get to wipe! I get to wipe! Yaaa, yaaa I get to wipe!
Pookie: I want to wipe too. Can I wipe something Mommy? Can I wipe the light switches?
Me: Yes, Pookie, you can help too. Here is your wipe. Go wipe the light switch plates. And if you are really good, you can even wipe the light switch plates in my room and the bathrooms too!
G: I’m all done. I threw my wipe in the trash. I need another one.
Me: Did you finish the doorknobs and the front door already?
Bun: Meee help . . . peeease.
G: Yep. What is my chore now?
Me: Uh, I think that’s all for now.
G: NO! I want more chores! I not done! I want to help more! Puhleease?! Please Momma?! (Shriek, wailing and gnashing of teeth)
Me: G, is that how we ask nicely when we want to do chores?
G: (Total calmness) No. Please may I do more chores, Momma?
Me: Here. This is a little broom and dustpan. Sweep the dust and crumbs off the stairs into this dustpan and then empty it in the kitchen trash, okay? This is how you do it.
G: Okay! Look, it’s little like me!
Pookie: I want to sweep with a little broom and dustpan too Mommy!
Me: Sorry Pookie. It’s G’s turn. You can try it later, okay?
Bun: Momma? Meee help . . . peeease.
Now my head is pounding as I’m frantically searching for chores for them to appease them.
Tonight is Family Home Evening and we are once again doing a lesson on obedience. We seem to alternate between obedience and honesty lessons lately. G has discovered that she is far superior than her siblings and will not listen to me without threats of duck-death.